Padfoot Infamous Marauder
by Your Favorite Mistake x3
Summary: Sirius on the night of Potter's death, talks more of revenge than anything, Not mushy. RR


Disclaimer: I do not own any charcters in this story that are copy righted to J.K. Rowling, nor will I ever. I am not J.K. Rowling, I have no contact with her, and I am not related to her in the slightest. If you are dense enough to think that I own these characters, then I beg you to drive yourself of a bridge to ease the pain of your stupidity. I however do own those characters that do NOT, I repeat (with slight agitation), do Not, belong to Rowling. Thank you.   
  
A/N : I am writing this story at one o' clock in the morning, on Notepad (The computer program, which I may add has not spell check), with about half of my brain cells. I do not care if you flame my story, because you will not be the first, nor the last. I simply ask that if you do flame please do it so that I can actually see what your talking about. Do not drone on about how stupid the non-existent penguins in this story are, this does not apply to my story and never will.  
  
Warmest Regards,   
  
Xia P.  
  
Story:  
  
It was with dread in my heart, and my stomach in my throat, that I flew to the Potter's house the night of Halloween. I could not think straight as I flew, which may have been the due to my uneasiness, or the milk that I had later discovered was sour. My nerves were strung taunt and it felt as though, when I landed, that someone was scraping a fingernail across them. To me it would've been no surprise to find the house abandoned as I peeked inside the window, for that was the secret of it's ability to hide the people within. I would've been prepared if it had become evident the house was occupied, because Peter had squealed. But, nothing could've prepared me for what lay before me, nothing. There was no house. Rubble was spewed about everywhere. I remember walking throught the broken bits of plaster and wood, thinking I was at the wrong house. It was not until I saw the broken bodies of my two best friends, that I recieved a terribles shock of truth. I screamed so loud that I knew within minutes no one muggle would lay asleep in there bed. My cry was of anguish, anger, pain, and of hate. Had it not been the for the returning cry a baby, I think I may have gone mad, though I know now that I was still crazy and still am.   
  
Something broke inside of me when I saw Harry. Covered in white powder from the fallen house, the only recognisable thing of him was his peiercing green eyes. I picked him up with the greatest care. Nothing was broken as far as I could tell, but sticky dried blood caked his forhead. I was in shock at the time and couldn't feel anything. I simply stood up and began to walk away. I didn't know where I was going, I just started walking, like I knew exactly where I was going. It almost felt as though a veil was lifted form my eyes when I bumped into Hagrid. His eyes were red and swollen, and yet I couldn't figure out why. I'd never seen him cry before, and I wondered what was making him so upset.   
  
"Sirius, e's killed 'em. Finished 'em off without a care. And 'Arry, I can't 'find 'he body, but he got 'im too," Hagrid sobbed to me his chest heaving.   
  
Suddenly, it came rushing back to me, almost knocking the breath out of me. James, Lily, Harry. Wait...... Harry! I felt the weight in my hands, my cloak wrapped around the small figure. Against my will I burst into tear, Sobs wracking my body.   
  
"Hagrid, H-He's her-re. I've got Harr-rr-y." I said, my voice cracking at times. Hagrid looked down at the small bundle in my hands. " I have to go Ha-g-grid,". I held Harry tight to my body and cried into his matted down hair. Before I could move and inch, A hand came down upon my shoulder, and clasped me so tight I nearly forgot how to breathe.   
  
" I can't let 'ya go, Sirius. Dumbledore said to bring to 'im any survivers" Hagrid replied in a gruff voice.   
  
I sobbed all the harder into Harry's hair. I knew I'd have to let go of him, but I couldn't bring myself to let go the last thing I had left. Harid released my shoulder and patted me comfortingly. Gently, he pried Harry from my hands after I kissed his bloody forhead. "Take the bike Hagrid" I remember saying to him. He tried to get out of taking the bike but I waved it off. Rage boiled inside of me, and I whispered ina deadly voice "I won't be nedding it anymore."  
  
I ran as fast as I could in down Godri's Hollow. I flee down one winding street to the next searching until at last I found my prey. Peter. He was in the form of a rat. In spite of everything I smiled to myself. An insane smile to the sane, and a fitting smile to the mad. I screamed the one word to change him to his human form. He did not shrink in front of me as he should of. No, he had the courage to stand erect in my presence.   
  
"You killed them," I yelled at him. He flinched and cowered before me as he should've done from the begining. " Are you going to kill me?" he asked, fear lining his voice. With a reply sharp as a blade I anwsered. "No, I will hurt you, and I will push you to the very inch of your life. And then I will let you think you've escaped. You will flee and I will catch you. You will become the mouse, and I the cat. I will make your life a living hell, so when you do die and burn in the very fires of darkness that have consumed so many before, it will fel no different then when you were living. You killed them Peter, and you will pay". I spat on his face, almost sealing the promise that I'd made.   
  
"No, you killed them", he screamed. His voice carried on across the town, with no regards for the sleep of the muggles. At least 25 muggles ran from their from doors to see what was happening. I then realized what the bastard was doing. He was a not a clever bastard, as some may think. No, he was a puppet of Voldemort. This was all rehersed days in advanced, so we can not even give him credit of having half a wit. He smiled at me with malice dripping from his curved lips. Without any thought to it, Peter cut off his finger and threw it behind him. With his good hand he whispered a curse. It blew up the entire street. At least ten muggles went with it. Suddenly I knew what he'd done. Laughter rang from my mouth, sounding strange even to my own ears. It was a mad laugh. I laughed at the world, for they were so oblivious, how many were framed with no one believing them as they cried pathetically for help, I laughed at what I knew was to come. My arest followed by the ministry trying to break me, get me to tell the story, and how I would not be broken. Most of all I laughed at Peter. He'd thought he won. No, even when Fudge appeared at my side, and ordered me thrown in jail without a trial, I just continued to laugh. I'd escape from that jail, and I laughed, for how the world would know, Padfoot the infamous maraduer, would be back again.   
  
A/N: It may suck, so tell me. Tell meif you want me to write more.   
  
Thanks,  
  
Xia P. 


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